“Look out!” Nathan warned.
Their ally crouched and rolled as the remnants fired over his head. From within the folds of his cloak, he threw a knife at one shooter. It struck the man in the stomach and an arrow followed to his forehead. The last remnant shook for a moment, then dropped his rifle and ran for cover. An arrow hit him in the back before he reached the tree line.
Nathan, Alexis, and Drachen stared at their mysterious savior. He stared back at them with an arrow notched in his bow. Drachen asked, “Who are you?”
He answered, “There are more remnants around, and I can’t fight them all. Follow me if you want to live.”
62
Nathan eyed their mysterious savior with suspicion. The rustic log cabin smelled of pine oil and wood smoke and lacked running water or electricity.
“My name is Kahale Archer.” He shrugged the cloak off his shoulders and placed his bow on a rack next to two others. “The quiet child in the corner is my son, Bryce.”
Quinn nudged Nathan. “The guy with the bow and arrow is named Archer?” He chuckled. “That’s like a librarian named Bookman. Or an ice cream man named Cone.”
Nathan ignored the jibes and watched Archer as he brushed the long bangs away from his cold eyes and sat his muscular bulk in a rickety chair. “Why did you help us back there?” Nathan asked.
His face obscured by the gloomy interior, Archer said, “Because you needed it.”
Drachen paced the floor. His steps creaked along the wooden joists. “You’re a remnant.”
Archer said, “I stayed behind in California if that’s what you mean. What of it? We’re not all savages.” He nodded to his son. “Show them our hospitality, boy.”
Without a sound, Bryce passed around smudged glasses of water. “You really going to drink that?” Quinn asked as Nathan held the glass up to the dim light. He couldn’t see through the glass and set it aside.
Drachen pointed to the rack of bows on the cabin wall. “Kind of low tech, aren’t they?”
Nathan cringed as Archer drank some of the brown water. He wiped his mouth and answered, “Bullets can be hard to come by out here. Besides, a bow doesn’t jam.”
Alexis whispered from across the room, “Where did you learn to fight like that?”
Archer leaned forward and brought his face into the sparse light. “Twenty-fifth airborne infantry division. Tropic lightning out of Oahu.”
“Hawaii?” Drachen asked.
Archer said, “Before their independence, obviously.” He drew an arrow from the quiver at his feet and scraped the razor tip against a whetstone. “What were you doing out there?”
Drachen answered, “Following a guide to San Duhamel.”
Archer gave a slight nod. The zing of his arrow against the whetstone filled the cabin. “Sorry about what happened to your guide. San Duhamel is dangerous territory, I’d advise against going there.”
“How did it happen?” Nathan looked at Alexis. “Did Bradley not get a vibe?”
She shook her head. “The only thing he mentioned was an empty feeling ahead. No vibes of danger.”
Drachen sneered at Nathan. “You still trust your life to that trick?”
Quinn sidled up next to him. “You trust it more than you trust her.” Nathan glanced at him. “She’s lying. Makes you wonder what game she’s playing at. Do what needs to be done.” Nathan turned away from the suggestion.
Archer cocked an eyebrow and dragged his arrow across the whetstone. “Your guide was augmented?”
Drachen said, “They’re not all savages.”
“Not been my experience,” Archer said, “How was he augmented?”
Alexis answered, “His sense of direction was heightened. He could feel trouble and find a path around it.”
Drachen snorted. “If he could do that, he’d still be alive.”
Archer set the arrow and whetstone aside. “His ability failed him?” He exchanged a look with his son and stood. In a breathless voice, he whispered, “Hije.”
“What is that, a sneeze?” Quinn asked.
Nathan moved closer to Archer. “You know something.”
Archer looked to his son. Bryce stood in the corner and stared back at his father with expectant eyes. Archer said, “Hije is Albanian for shadow. Her mother, my wife, was Albanian. Before Crowley took her from me, she answered to Rebecca. She has augmented stealth. This is why your guide thought it safe—he couldn’t detect Hije.”
“But what about the remnants?” Alexis asked, “Why couldn’t Bradley feel them?”
Archer said, “Hije is skilled, and dangerous. She could place them where they would not be found.”
“That means the remnants are in league with Crowley,” Nathan said, “Perfect.”
Archer shook his head. “None of us would ever work for Crowley. Would you work with a man who steals your friends and family and twists them into grotesque versions of themselves? He is loathed by every remnant.”
“Then how do you explain what happened?” Drachen said, “This…Hije had to hide the remnants who attacked us. Seems like an allegiance to me.”
“You assume they attacked you willingly,” Archer said, “Crowley has an augment he calls Siren. She convinces men to act against their own wishes.” Archer moved to a window and quietly pushed the curtain aside. “If they’re still in the area, it’s not safe to travel. You can spend the night here.” He turned around to face them. “In the morning, I’ll point you in the right direction.”
63
Sparks flew when Archer jabbed a poker into the hearth. The crackle of wood burning filled the log cabin. Firelight danced on the full-length tattoo sleeve drawn on Archer’s left arm.
Alexis made out a lightning bolt and a spider web inscribed on his flesh, before he jabbed the logs a final time, and sat back in the dim shadows. She felt the heat on her face and shifted her blanket lower. The tang of wood smoke tickled her throat. Her thoughts drifted to Bradley, and a cold emptiness seized her. She shivered despite the warmth of the cabin.
Archer wove tiny feathers into the end of a titanium arrow, his hands busy at work. Nathan and Drachen slept further away from the fire, obscured by the gloom. Alexis watched Archer for a moment longer, then said, “You have a nice boy there.”
Archer’s gaze drifted to the back corner where Bryce slept on a cot. “Thank you,” he said.
“If you don’t mind my asking…what happened to his mother?”
Archer looked at Alexis. She saw no menace in his eyes but recognized his hurt. He laid his arrow across his lap and said, “We lost her in the quake.”
“I’m sorry,” Alexis said. Archer nodded, and she asked, “And how long has Rebecca been gone?”
His hand wrapped around the arrow and squeezed. “Three months and six days.”
“You never went after her in all that time?” Alexis turned her head at the sound of Drachen’s voice. He stepped into the sparse light, and added, “I would’ve gone after her.”
Archer set the arrow aside and rested his elbows on his knees. “Do you have children?”
Drachen answered, “No, I don’t.”
Archer’s eyes narrowed. “Then you couldn’t possibly understand the terrible choice I had to make. Going after Rebecca would mean leaving Bryce alone in the world to fend for himself. Going after Rebecca means taking the risk I won’t make it back to him.” He stabbed the poker into the flames and ignited a shower of sparks. “Could you make that choice?”
Drachen sat next to Alexis. He softened the edge to his voice and said, “I suppose I couldn’t say. But how about we make your choice easier?” Alexis furrowed her brow at him while Archer’s expression remained unchanged.
Drachen said, “We owe you for the rescue, let us pay you back. Guide us to San Duhamel, and together we can rescue your daughter. Lexi here can stay behind and watch Bryce.”
Alexis stared slack-jawed at him. She shifted higher on the threadbare sofa a
nd said, “You expect me to stay behind? Why? Because I’m a woman?”
Drachen shrugged. “Someone’s got to stay behind, princess, and I’m short on warm bodies.”
Archer looked over at Bryce sleeping. He whispered, “I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“If you want daddy’s little girl back, we’re your best chance.” Drachen glanced at Bryce. “Don’t you think he wants his sister back?”
Archer stood and left the light of the fire. “You still don’t understand,” his voice was raw and pained. “Bryce can handle himself for a time. I could even have Keith from over the hill check on him. But to what end?” Archer stared at them. “Rebecca is gone. She’s more Hije now than Rebecca.”
Drachen stood. “What if she wasn’t?” Alexis watched Archer’s impassive mask crack. His brow lifted and his eyes softened. “Take us to San Duhamel,” Drachen said, “If you help us, I promise you we’ll reverse what Crowley did to your daughter.”
Archer asked, “You can do that?”
Drachen grinned. “My employer can. But, only if we retrieve an item from San Duhamel. And to do that, we need to get there. So, how about it? Are you in?”
Alexis held her breath as they waited for Archer to answer. Reverse augmentation? She doubted the claim, but the hope on Archer’s face stayed her tongue. What if Holt can do it?
Archer walked over to his son’s cot and knelt beside him. He ruffled Bryce’s short dark hair and bent lower to kiss his cheek. Standing, he faced them. “I’ll lead you to San Duhamel. All of you. Keith can watch over Bryce. The terrain is dangerous, and we’ll need all the eyes we can get.”
“Excellent then.” Drachen smiled.
Archer moved closer and placed a hand on Drachen’s chest. “If I find out you’re lying about this cure…I will shoot an arrow through your heart myself.” Drachen’s smile faded. Archer ordered, “Get some sleep. We leave at first light.”
64
Tiberius Holt heard the engine whine before he saw the wake roll along the surface of the Patapsco River. Seated on the main deck of The Brave, his hundred and seventy-five-foot yacht, he waited for his guest to arrive.
The stars overhead lent a silver hue to the water while, onshore, the distant lights of Baltimore shone through the dark. Holt watched the speedboat dock at the stern of his ship. He swirled his brandy and took a relaxed sip.
His guest boarded with grace unexpected in a woman of her size. Holt noted the pair of bodyguards who stood watch near her boat. She looked up at the sheltered exterior deck Holt sat on, and he found no humor in her stern expression.
A minute later, the door opened, and she entered the aft deck. “Ms. Moore,” Holt stood and said, “Glad you could make it.”
Sarah Moore frowned at him. Her eyes roamed over the opulent surroundings before they settled on Holt. She asked, “There a reason we couldn’t have done this on dry land?” She waved at the surrounding luxury. “Aside from your need to show off.”
Holt pressed his lips together in a thin smile. He sat again, and said, “I felt we needed absolute privacy for this conversation. I could’ve invited you to Union City but, given this meeting was my request, it seemed proper for me to come to you. And, we might have met in your office, but I didn’t imagine the Operations Director for the Department of Supernatural Affairs wished to host me in her top-secret headquarters. So, here we are. This yacht is swept twice daily for bugs and is totally secure.”
Sarah sneered at him, her lip curled with disdain. Holt smiled at her and said, “Yes, I know quite a bit about your role with the DSA.”
Sarah strolled over to the bar and lifted an ornate bottle of Bowmore 1957 scotch. She glanced at Holt as she opened the bottle. Pouring herself a shot, she said, “I’d be careful what you know, Tiberius.” Sarah sniffed her glass and took a drink. “Knowledge can be a dangerous thing.”
Holt chuckled. “I’d be careful who you threaten, Ms. Moore. I invited you here so we could be allies. Don’t make the mistake of turning me into an enemy.”
Sarah finished her drink. She set the empty glass on the maple bar and took a seat across from Holt. “How do you imagine us being allies?” Sarah settled her serious gaze upon him. “If you really know what I do with the DSA, what role do you imagine you could play in that?”
Holt finished the rest of his brandy and set the glass aside. He steepled his fingers and asked, “How long has the DSA been hunting augments? Several years now, if I don’t miss my guess? And, in all that time, what progress do you really have to show?”
Holt stood and lifted a finger to Sarah to keep her from replying. He walked toward the bar and said, “Indulge me, if you will. What if I could give you the man in charge? The source of all the new augments flooding this country.” He stared at her from behind the bar. “I think that would be worth something to you.”
Sarah leaned forward in her seat. She leaned an elbow on her knee and said, “It sounds like a fairy tale to me.”
Holt’s smile broadened. “No fairy tale, Ms. Moore. Align with me, and I shall deliver his location to you.”
“If you had such information and didn’t divulge it, you know I could arrest you for obstruction.”
Holt raised a glass to her. “You could. But then you’d need to explain your being here tonight. I think my way is cleaner, don’t you? You get his location, make your arrests, and undoubtedly advance your career.”
Sarah pursed her lips. “In exchange for what?”
“Not much at all.” Holt returned to his chair and said, “All I ask is return transport for my guy and his cargo.”
“Your guy?” Sarah leaned back with a chuckle. “Your guy wouldn’t have anything to do with the Raptors the air force shot down in the No Man’s Land, would he?” Holt remained quiet. Sarah said, “So the source of the augments is in old California.”
“Maybe,” Holt said, “It’s a big place though, and only I know where.”
“And the cargo?”
“Is not your concern.” Holt asked, “Do we have a deal, Ms. Moore?”
Sarah made a show of mulling it over. Holt could almost see her ambitions growing. At length, she nodded. “We have a deal. Provide me the location, and I’ll deploy an HK squad tomorrow.”
Holt beamed. “Excellent.” He handed her a micro drive and said, “You’ll find the coordinates on there.”
They shook hands, and Sarah departed. When she reached the door, Holt called out to her. “One last thing. Do you know how expensive that bottle you opened is?”
Sarah cocked an eyebrow. “Of course,” she said, “and I don’t even like scotch.”
65
They had been walking all morning when the sign appeared in their path. It had once read: Welcome to San Duhamel. Someone had spray painted four large white letters over the blue background so it now read: Welcome to Hell.
Quinn hooked a finger toward the sign. “Not very original, I’d say.”
Nathan adjusted the weight of his pack and passed by the vandalized marker. With no one within earshot, he asked, “Why do you keep making jokes?”
Quinn laughed. “What? Not funny?”
“I never found you funny.”
Quinn placed a hand over his heart in mock indignance. “I’m hurt.”
“And I’m finished.” Nathan snarled. “We’re done. I’m headed to battle. I can’t afford to indulge your existence any longer. You’re dead. I killed you. End of story.”
Quinn smiled. The sight sickened Nathan. “Nice speech. I’m sure you wish you could ignore me, but that’s not going to happen. Admitting you murdered me will not make me go away. I already know you murdered me.”
Nathan shifted his pack again and gnashed his teeth together. “What will make you go away?”
Quinn shook his head at him the way a teacher does to a recalcitrant pupil. “I told you before. If you want to be rid of me, you need to learn.”
Nathan stopped his advance. He placed his
hands on his hips and asked, “Learn what?”
Quinn shrugged. “Why not?” He laughed. “Given your destination, I don’t imagine you have much time left, anyway. You need to accept who you are, Miller.”
Nathan shook his head. “Not this guilt shit again. I have no guilt.”
“And yet, here I am,” Quinn said, “No, this isn’t about the guilt you refuse to admit. This is about what you’re going to do about her.” Quinn looked to Alexis. “Your partner. I’ve told you what needs to happen. You want me gone—you need to kill her.”
Nathan sniffed. “So, I can have two ghosts in my head? Forget it.”
Quinn punched him in the shoulder. “Come on, Miller. Since when do you have a problem with killing partners? You know she’s going to turn on you. You know it.”
Nathan stared at him. “Miller?” Alexis called back to him.
Quinn slid around behind him and whispered in his ear. “You see the way she’s looking at you? Cra-zy.”
Nathan ignored the comment and hurried to catch up. “Are you all right?” Alexis asked.
He glanced at her as he brushed past. “I’m fine. Just took a break.” Her look told him she didn’t believe it. Nathan avoided her eyes and carried on after Archer. They caught up with Archer and Drachen on the border of an open square. Archer held a fist up to halt their advance.
Nathan watched him wet a finger to test the wind’s direction. His solemn expression left Nathan with an uneasy feeling. “Why have we stopped?”
Archer looked at Nathan, and answered, “The stronghold is three blocks from here. A castle on a hill.”
Drachen held his assault rifle close to his chest. He asked, “Do we have an approach to avoid detection?”
Archer shook his head. “Too late.” He pointed to the sky. “The wind shifted—he knows we’re here.”
Nathan asked, “How?”
“Sniffers.”
Singularity Page 26
